Soon After Midnight
by BeaconMineshaftII
Summary: The unthinkable finally happened: an apocalypse. And a new messiah has risen-complete with his own town and pet Walkers, or "Infected." And power seems to so often fall into the hands of the wicked. Charlotte swallows her pride, spirit, and reservations and goes along with this life simply to survive. But some survivors begin to change her mind... DarylXOC **Alternate Universe.**
1. Pleasantries

"Time to wake up, Charlotte," a gentle voice prodded as a slender hand shook my shoulder. My eyes opened instantly, meeting the worn face of Lily, the brothel keeper. "The Governor is requesting your presence at his side for the fight." I forced my face to remain neutral, giving a stiff nod. "Your clothes are already being prepared and your water has been drawn."

"Thank you, Lily," I replied in my usual crisp accent before going into the bathroom. A warm bath awaited me. As I stripped down and settled into it, I found it ironic that it was customary for the Governor to ask his call-girls to bathe before being brought into such a world of filth. Now I should be grateful that I'm alive—and in some ways, I am. But I do rather wish he would have just killed me off when he met me. Like the others in my group.

I submerged beneath the water, eyes closed. No matter how many times I slid beneath the surface, I would never be able to erase the memories the Governor had given me. The only thing that could stop them was if he finally got tired of me. Not that that would really happen. I'm his favorite harlot. _His _Charlotte. I emerged, a sigh escaping from my lips. Time to get dressed—in scarlet, no less.

As if on cue, a few of the other girls walked in. They were all new. I could tell by the way that they inspected everything in the room. What could be used as a weapon, points of entry and exit opportunities, anything of value to steal—all of the basic instincts that the Governor would drill out of them. "Miss Charlotte," the tallest of the trio addressed me. I gave a tired, short nod.

The brunette, about middle-height, held out a towel for me. I slipped into it as the tallest, a blonde, began to wrap my hair in a towel. The third, the shortest and also a blonde, began to disassemble my dress for the day. The Governor was fond of Victorian-style garb. That meant that his favorite whores and women of the like were all to be dressed in similar fashion. We were given four dresses each. And they had to be as clean as possible. That was where the younger girls came into play. That would help to dress, bathe, and otherwise tend to his favorites. They often do not last so I never bother to learn their names anymore.

After my hair was dry enough to cascade in its natural curls, the girls began to dress me. They were finished nearly half an hour later. Lily came in to check on our progress. The Governor was here. As I was leaving, the brunette grabbed my wrist gently. "Miss Charlotte," she said softly, big brown eyes wide and full of hidden terrors. "How do you do it?"

I gave her a wry, bitter smile. It was the kind of smile that revealed just how long I had been with the Governor. An exact measure of time was irrelevant—time didn't really have much meaning now. I wasn't even sure what month it was or even if my birthday had gone by. It probably hadn't. I'm a winter baby. And it was just now starting to get that crisp, cool scent of fall in the air. But the weather could have taken a plummet along with any moral decency left in this world. Or what's left of the world period.

The brunette dropped her hand from my wrist, taking a cautious step back. She must have assumed that I hated what I did. I do. But I can't change it. "You learn," I replied, stepping away from her and heading for the front parlor. Lily was sitting with the Governor and a few of his men. When he saw me, he immediately stood and walked over to me, taking my hand in his before drawing it to his lips. This gesture probably would have charmed me Before but now it repulsed me.

"Shall we go, my pet?" he asked, holding out the customary leash we were to wear when he desired. I forced a pretty smile, moving my curls out of his way so that he could fasten it around my neck. His hand lingered at the nape of my neck for a few moments before dropping to the chain that was attached. He clenched it tightly. "See that my men are well tended to, Lily."

"Of course, sir," she replied. Any ounce of gentility and warmth was gone from her face. We all had learned to wear similar looks when dealing in business matters with the Governor. But you also had to make him think that you liked it. Such a fine line to walk—but may God help you if you veer off course or stumble. If God even still wants to claim us after all of this. If I was God, I wouldn't. But maybe this is just God's wrath. Retribution for all of our sins.

I bit back the hollow laugh that threatened to escape, smiling or laughing at the Governor when necessary and keeping my mouth shut otherwise. It wasn't long until he was done parading me around, taking me to the seats at the top of the ring. There was a handful of the Infected waiting there, staring hungrily around the arena at the crowd. A few guards came to stand near us, protecting the Governor in case anything were to go wrong.

"I think you'll like this fight, my Charlotte," he cooed at me, his hand resting on my arm to be sure he had my full attention.

"Oh?" I smiled, looking as interested and excited as I could muster. Out of everything he made me do, this was the worst. Watching innocent people fight to their deaths. There was usually a victor—but even then the victor could easily throw him- or her- self to the Infected and be done with the world. Nothing good ever came from winning a fight. It only meant that there would be more fights ahead. And more blood on their hands.

"One of your old friends, Margaret, volunteered." A malicious grin dashed across his face, settling deep within his eyes. "She wanted me to spare the life of some man." He leaned back, the grin turning a deep, crimson shade of arrogance. "Let's see if she still wants to spare his life after this." It was hard to keep my face neutral as the information sunk in. Margaret, the woman who had helped me adjust to this life, was being pitted against a man whom she had wanted to save. She had been my old house mother, preceding Lily. This was going to be the hardest fight to watch.

And he chose me to watch it with him just for this reason. My jaw clenched, earning a gleeful chuckle from the man. If I wouldn't have been shot on the spot, I would have attempted to take his life. But the guards would have stopped me before I even had the chance. Soon, the fight was signaled to stop.

Margaret, a once pleasantly plump woman, stumbled into the arena looking as if she had not had any food since the last time I had seen her. In all honesty I had assumed that she was dead. But now she was about to be. A frail looking man with glasses was the next to appear in the ring. He looked terrified. By his appearance, I would have suspected that he had done some sort of math for a living. And he had not managed to build much of a physical physique even in this new version of our world.

The man stayed close to Margaret, who was speaking to him. The Infected had not yet noticed that a source of food was right under their noses. Their senses were on overload from the sheer mass of people in comparison to them. When the man moved away from Margaret was when they noticed that there was food within their reach. And they wasted no time in going after it.

Margaret threw herself in front of the man, allowing the Infected to begin tearing her flesh apart. The frail man huddled near the edge of the ring, sinking into the fetal position as the Infected feasted on my old friend. I turned my head away, feeling quite queasy. The Governor grabbed my chin, forcing me to watch.

"Aren't you enjoying the show, my dear?"

My lips twitched into something that I hoped resembled a smile as I held back my vomit. When Margaret's corpse had been eaten in its entirety, the fight was called to an end. The man was named the victor as one of the guards held up his hand. And, then, a second put a bullet through the back of his head, leaving him for the infected. To win one of these fights and leave alive, you have to entertain the Governor. And neither the man nor Margaret had entertained him. That meant that neither would be able to live until tomorrow.

"And, now, for the celebration," he declared, pulling me to my feet by my leash and leading me to his sleeping quarters. My mind dulled as I prepared for what had to happen next.

It was a few hours before he was finished with me. He handed me the appropriate amount of money for groceries to give to Lily and called one of his guards to escort me back. I was relieved to see that it was Merle Dixon he called in. Unlike the other guards, he was kind to me. The Governor handed my reigns over to Merle, telling him to take me straight back to the Brothel and to make certain that Lily got the money.

We were a few blocks away before Merle stopped dragging me around like a dog and took off the leash. "Thank you," I replied, rubbing my neck gratefully.

"I like ya," he replied dismissively. "Ya ain't stupid like the rest of the girls."

"And you aren't a jackass like most of the guards," I chuckled darkly. He sent me a wry smirk as we walked in silence. By now the streets of the town were empty. Our curfew had passed. Not even the other guards were walking freely about. They were at their designated posts and that was it. Anyone who wasn't supposed to be on duty was treated as a civilian in the event that they were to wander outside. Execution on sight. And this is all because some guy thinks that he's the new messiah.

"Ya remind me of my little brother, ya know," he spoke suddenly into the silent night. I turned to look at him curiously. He suddenly appeared to have aged ten years, making me wonder once again how old Merle really was. He wouldn't say—but I knew he was at least fifteen years older than me.

"What happened to him?"

"I dunno." There was a heavy regret in his voice. "I was never real good to no one, ya know? An' that came back aroun' to bite me in the ass." I studied him in the moonlight.

"I never did understand how someone like you got roped into this," I admitted.

"Did?"

"I do now, yes." He waited for me to continue. "Punishing yourself into this life is your way of repenting for whatever you've done so far. Is it working?"

"We'll find out." There was some silence after this. "How'd you end up here anyhow?"

"From England or at the Brothel?"

"Both."

"I got a job offer over here," I lied smoothly, falling into the story I had told the Governor many times. "I used to sing and a record company offered to sign me. So I picked up and came over just before the Infected began popping up everywhere."

"So that's why he has ya workin' as dinner entertainment, too." I nodded.

"As for the Brothel—well, he decided that he liked me when he found me. All because my name is Charlotte."

"Charlotte?"

"He's a fan of Bob Dylan." When he looked at me blankly, I sighed before singing: _"Charlotte's a harlot, dresses in scarlet."_

"And that's why no one else can wear red."

"Right." We were at the front steps of the Brothel. His face returned to its usual blank state as he knocked. Lily answered the door, looking relieved to see me in one piece. I handed her the money, which she took without counting. I'm not even sure if she uses the money he gives her or if she uses the money from the other girls' earnings.

Merle gave me a slight nod before strolling away in the moonlight. I stood for a few moments, watching him walk away, before going inside with Lily. "I heard about the fight," she said tentatively. I glanced at her as I took off my jewelry. "That must have been horrible to—"

"Nothing is pleasant any more, Lily," I replied softly. "But no, that wasn't particularly pleasant." The image of Margaret's flesh-derived corpse flashed before my eyes. I shut my eyes, forcing the image away as I squeezed the bridge of my nose. "I almost forget what life was like before."

Her voice was soft when she replied. "Some days, I think it was all a dream." I turned, giving her a sad half-smile. "But enough of that. Let's get you ready for bed." She rang a bell, summoning the three girls from before. The four of us then proceeded to my bedroom where they helped me to undress. Once they were gone, I put on one of my night gowns and crawled into bed even though it was still relatively early. It seemed that all I did lately was sleep whenever I wasn't otherwise needed by the Governor.

It didn't take long for me to fall asleep.

* * *

_This is just a story idea that I'm kicking around. The Veldt is still my main priority as far as this site is concerned. But I have ADD when it comes to projects. I'm working on a few different ones. Yet this story just intrigued me so much that I'm going to try and tell it as it comes to me. _

_This was almost entirely inspired by a simple drive into work, where I spent time in between selling things to customers jotting down notes on a pad of paper that was later used to create this chapter. The rest of the inspiration was from Bob Dylan-I so dearly love that man's musical genius. He's one of my favorites, hands down. (Which is kind of odd since The Veldt is inspired by a rapper. But I don't do genres very well. They perplex me.) I also just love the Walking Dead and, with what little knowledge I actually have of the Governor, I imagine that this would be an acceptable alternate universe? If not: well, it is now. ;)  
_

_Anyway, I wish no copyright infringement on Bob Dylan or AMC's Walking Dead. It's merely for fun, yada yada yada. I do not own anything except the non-cannon characters like Charlotte, Lily, etc. :)_

_Enjoy!_  
_~ Lynn_


	2. Borders

The next morning was dark and dreary. Rain, I concluded after a few moments out of sleep. I sat up, rubbing my face tiredly. What time was it? Even though it was rather grey outside, it seemed too dark to actually be an acceptable hour of the day. Then why was I even awake? My internal alarm clocks had been deactivated long ago—when life was destroyed and the After was created.

_Clink._

The window? I furrowed my brows, pulling myself out of bed. What idiot was stupid enough to be out before curfew lifted and calling on _me_ of all people? I silently opened the window, finding Merle standing below. "What are you doing here?" I asked in a soft murmur, my eyes scanning the streets.

He didn't say anything at first. Then, as if someone had kicked him firmly in the rear, he began scampering up the side of the building until he was safely inside. The window was then closed, locked, and my curtains drawn. I stared at him incredulously. If the Governor found out about this, Merle Dixon was a dead man walking. I pushed the thought from my mind. I rather liked Merle. It would be such a shame if he got himself killed.

"Governor found people," he replied gruffly to my unanswered question, sitting down on my bed with his head in his hands. I slowly sank beside him, my hand falling on his shoulder in concern. But my voice remained silent, waiting for him to speak. I had a vague memory recall of my mother drawing on my back with her fingertips to calm me down. I began drawing an array of circles on the large man's back. Finally, he spoke: "it's the group my brother was with." My drawing immediately stopped. I stared at him as his icy blue eyes rose to meet my emerald ones.

"Was?" I asked without thinking.

"I don't know if he's still alive. Little bastard should be. Unless he did somethin' stupid." His look had gone sour. I sat silently, waiting for him to continue. He lowered his gaze back to the wooden floorboards.

"I think we've officially crossed the borders of formalities," I finally concurred. "You lost your hand when you were with that group, didn't you?"

"They left me chained to the fuckin' roof. Didn't have no choice," he growled. Most of the girls would have flinched if a man raised his voice to them. But I simply waited for him to continue or to drop it. "Came back for me the next day. Stole their van right from 'em."

I furrowed my brows, my lips pulling into a frown.

"I know, I know. Dumbass," he supplied for me. "But I was pissed. And ya know how a man gets when his pride is hurt."

"You're the most interesting man I have ever met," I admitted. "And I've met a lot of interesting men Before and After. But you surpass them all." I shook my head, throwing long dark hair over my shoulder. "I assume that there's something you'd like from me on this subject." He looked up at me once more, a smirk playing at his lips.

"That's what I like about ya, Charlotte. Nice tits an' a fine ass, but the brain of a man."

"What do you need?"

"You'll help?" he asked, studying me.

"Depends on how much the Governor is going to kill me as a result," I replied honestly. "If I think you're being completely rash, arrogant, and otherwise idiotic—then, no. But if I don't think it's going to get either one of us killed, yes." Hell, even if it does I might help anyway. What good is this life really doing me? Merle and Lily are about the only people I'd consider friends any more. And I often treat Lily rather poorly. But that's just how this life is supposed to go. That much, at least, I've learned.

"Depends on how it goes," he admitted. "Knowing them, they're gonna go right for the Governor. You're his favorite—he always appears in public with you. Either my dumbass brother or the high and fucking mighty sheriff will try an' save you. I want you to keep them alive."

"That's going to be hard to do. His guards shoot on sight if anyone so much as touches me when I'm with him," I frowned. I leaned back on the bed, my palms pressed against the cotton sheets. "How averse are you to wasting innocent lives?"

"I ain't at all. Ain't you against it?"

"Morality is a far second from survival. Now, here's how I'm going to help you. It would be best if you'd do your part. Otherwise we're both going to be in the next fight. And, as much as I like you Merle, I will not play nice."

"Neither would I."

A faint smile touched my lips. "Good." I then delved deeply into the plot my mind was concocting. He leaned away from me thoughtfully.

"If this don't go the way ya imagine, yer dead."

"Am I really any good alive?"

"Are any of us?"

"We're about to find out, I think."

"Merle Dixon—always fuckin' playin' hero. I don't wanna be no fuckin' hero."

"Don't worry, you hardly are." He left just as dawn was beginning to break. I watched him leave from my window, wondering if this would be one of the last times I would see the sun rise. Or if Merele would live to see it rise another day. Would any of us after this?

I sighed heavily before climbing back into bed, staring at the wall and waiting for sleep to lie with me once more. But sleep never came. Lily came in a few hours later, telling me that the Governor was requesting my presence. I rose, bathed, and allowed the three girls from before to dress me once again.

Lily came to fetch me just as I was placing the finishing touches on my jewelry. "He's here," she confirmed. I nodded, turning my attention back to the mirror. My reflection mirrored the girl that I had come to know in Woodbury, the town that the Governor had claimed as his own. She did not look anything like I remembered myself Before. My life has always been spiked with just a hint of melancholy—but nothing this severe. And I had lost more weight than I probably should have. I wasn't very large before. Instead, I had been rather petite but curvy. Now I was just slender. That fragile weight that borders on the brink of skeletal.

But that was how the Governor liked me. Often, while going through the rather unpleasant motions he requires of me, I wonder if he keeps me at this weight because I remind him of the Infected. He was rather unhinged in addition to cruel. Though he may not have been such a bad man in our previous lives. Clearly, however, he could not handle this life. It was not one meant for him. And his mind had no qualms about making that known.

With one final glance at my reflection, I left the bathroom and descended the stairs to where the parlor was. He immediately rose, pressing his lips to the back of my hand. The leash was attached before we left. "It's such a beautiful day out that it would be a shame to waste it, don't you think so, my Charlotte?" he asked, turning affectionately to me with a smile.

"Of course," I replied, mirroring his smile. "It's getting colder out. Fall must be approaching."

"We'll have to get you warmer clothes," he declared. He pulled on the leash, beckoning for me to follow him. That was when I saw a group of unfamiliar faces at the town gates. Most of the men were arguing with the guards, trying to be let in. Part of me wanted to tell them to run away. They were better off with the Infected. But I kept my mouth shut. The Governor was in a relatively good mood today. Best not to spoil it early. Especially if I had to put my plan into action.

A frown appeared on the Governor's face, his hand tightening around the chain. He tugged me forward impatiently. I was careful not to trip over my dress as he stalked over to the scene. "What's going on here?" he demanded, earning a quick attention from the guards.

"They're requesting entrance, sir," one of the guards that frequently watched the fights with us informed him. The Governor's eyes fell on the group. I silently made a profile of each in my head. Eleven different faces. One of them a male child. Four of them female. The rest male. One of them Korean. One black. Everyone else was Caucasian—or mixed enough that they appeared to be Caucasian. Merle's brother wasn't hard to pick out. He was the dirty, rugged one with crossbow. And he was eyeing the collar around my neck with a neutral expression.

"What do you want?" he asked the man that was front and center. The man's eyes narrowed as he took in the situation.

"We just want a place to stay," he pleaded. "Some place safe. Please—I have a son."

"That doesn't mean you're special," the Governor replied callously. He gruffly handed my reins to the guard. "Keep a hold of her." His eyes narrowed to viper-like slits. "Remember the rules." The guard nodded, carelessly yanking on my collar.

"He won't be impressed if you strangle me," I hissed, prying the collar away from my vocal chords.

"Sorry, Whore." I rolled my eyes, turning away from the stares of the group. There was a curious young man that was taking in the scene. I had seen him around Woodbury a few times. But he hadn't particularly stood out before. His importance mustn't be very high. He would be a safe candidate.

I gave him a lightly tantalizing smile that beckoned him over. He looked around uncertainly before motioning at himself. A slight nod was my response. Hesitantly he crossed the cobblestone road. Once he was close enough, he took my hand within his. Immediately, the guards yanked me away, snapping into action. They had also managed to wedge me close enough to the group to speak to them quickly.

"Whatever happens, stay quiet. Don't touch me. Don't touch anyone here. Anything that's His will cost you your life," I instructed rapidly. The man with the shaved head and Younger Dixon soaked in my words. "And, most importantly, don't be squeamish."

Before any questions could be asked, the guards had shot the poor young man's kneecaps out. The guard who had been put in charge of me then set to work finishing the job with a knife. A stab through the heart. A twist. And then orders to use him as food for the Infected.

"You knew that would happen," the man with the shaved head murmured, eyes trained on the working guards.

"It was a favor for Dixon," I replied simply. Before the guards noticed, I quickly stepped a reasonable distance away.

"You're always the most troublesome whore," the guard grumbled. "Keep your eyes on the ground. The Governor will kill me if I take out the whole town."

That might not be such a bad thing, I quipped silently. I just hoped that their leader knew how to play hardball intelligently. You had to be two steps ahead of the Governor to win. And that was only on his off days.


	3. Understanding

The Governor and the group's leader returned about five minutes later. The latter of the two looked rather worn and defeated. Clearly the Governor had laid down some steep and unfavorable rules. The man knew it but he knew that his people at least needed some sort of safety here.

"Eyes off of my whore," the Governor growled, drawing me out of my musings. I hadn't realized that both Dixon and the man with the shaved head were watching me intently.

"They're new," I reasoned softly, placing a hand upon his arm—something that I knew he liked. His eyes narrowed lightly at me.

"Are you telling me what to do?"

"No, of course not," I replied with a sweet smile. "It was merely an observation. They aren't used to our rules here."

"Well they'll have to get used to them." He grabbed my leash, giving it a harsher yank than usual. I winced slightly, catching myself when I went to try to loosen it. That would only make him do it more. A dark glint appeared in his eyes. He had noticed my wince. Shit. A wicked grin curved his lips upward as he pulled me closer by the chain. He glanced at the guard. "Escort them around town, Daniel," he instructed. "Then show them to the guest quarters before more permanent lodgings can be arranged. I'll be, uh, busy," he cast a wicked glance at me, "don't bother me unless it's important."

"Yes, sir," Daniel saluted dutifully, casting me a smug look. He turned to the group, barking out instructions while the Governor tugged at my leash. This was going to be rather unpleasant. My stomach knotted just thinking about what was in store for me.

He made no haste in retreating to his sleeping quarters with me in tow. As soon as the door was closed behind me, he locked it firmly into place.

With my leash firmly in his hands, he began to work at the laces of my corset, ripping whatever he couldn't unlace in a convenient timeframe. Once my dress was stripped off of me, he grabbed a fistful of my hair, shoving me onto the floor and kicking my stomach. His grip tightened the leash until I began to cough. A swift punch to my gut knocked the air out of my lungs. The heel of his boot came down on my hand, pinning it in place as he brought my head down against the wood with a dull _thud_.

"Don't you ever fucking undermine me again," he sneered, his smile burning into the back of my mind. Another kick to my stomach. And then another. Until my knees gave out and I was flattened against the floor. The Governor took this opportunity to straddle me, pulling off the rest of my clothing. I forced my mind into a state of neutrality, distancing myself as far away from what was happening as possible. It was a state of being I had learned to master while living here. This state was the only thing that kept me alive. Otherwise, I would be dead by now.

It was a few hours before he was finished with me. He lay naked on the bed, a sheet thrown carelessly against his hips as he smoked a cigarette. "Get dressed. Dixon's on his way to take you back." He exhaled. "Remember to mind your place. Your mouth wasn't designed to talk, my dear. Understand me?"

His stormy grey eyes fell on my green ones. I forced a smile with a nod, finishing with the laces on my corset.

"Good. Now get out." He didn't need to tell me twice. I took my time exiting his room before walking quickly down the hall. My body collided with Merle's before I realized that I was crying. It was thankfully dark outside so there was nobody else around.

"Charlotte," he whistled lowly, getting a look at me. "Darlin,' what's wrong?"

I shook my head and sobbed, "just take me to Lily's." He frowned, putting his arm around me as he led me outside. If anyone other than Merle had tried to touch me right now, I would have resisted it. And it was cold out.

"I'm gonna kill that sick sonuvabitch," Merle declared darkly, his blue eyes narrowed. I shook my head slowly.

"You have to get your brother and his group out, first," I reminded him. I turned my bloodshot eyes to him insistently. "If not, what just happened was a waste of my time."

He stared at me expressionlessly, deep in thought. "Ya knew that this would happen. An' ya still helped me."

"I didn't know for certain. But I knew it was a possibility." I gingerly touched the side of my face that had been slammed against the floor. "Ow."

"You're gonna have a nice shiner," he sighed, stopping to study my wounds. "Couple of 'em, actually." He stopped suddenly, looking up the street. There was someone outside. His hand immediately went to his gun, resting his hand there. "Don' ya know it's after curfew? Go on an' get before I have ta shoot yer head off."

"Merle?" a familiar voice addressed him. I grabbed Merle's arm.

"He's in their group—"

"I know who he is," he replied, taking his hand off of his gun. "Get back inside, Sheriff. I ain't wantin' to shoot ya."

"I just want to talk to your friend," the group's leader reasoned. He was still trying to act like a cop in the apocalypse. This must all be a very rude awakening to someone like him. A sense of proper moral justice will only get you killed somewhere like this. You do what you have to to survive and that's it.

"Ya ain't allowed. Against the rules. You come any closer and I'm gonna have to shoot ya."

"You don't want to shoot me, Merle."

"Actually, I do. But it don't matter what I want. Rules are rules, Cop. Gotta follow through on 'em. I ain't gettin' myself killed for ya. Bad enough she got beaten up for my dumbass little brother an' the other cop."

The Sheriff stopped approaching, apparently startled. "What?"

"Ya heard me, now—," Merle stopped speaking, noting movement behind him. "Aw, hell. Fuckin' cop bastard. Can't ever make no sense to 'em." He whipped his pistol out, shooting the Sheriff in his shin. The man cried out in pain, falling to the ground in surprise.

"You alright, Commander Dixon?" the guard behind the Sheriff questioned.

"Everythin's fine. Tell Marcus I have a body for his cell," Merle ordered. The guard gave a dismissive salute before disappearing. Merle grumbled as he went over to the Sheriff.

"Always gotta be the fuckin' hero, Rick Grimes. Nobody likes the goddamn hero. Ain't you ever gonna learn?" Merle lifted the man onto his shoulder easily. "Let's get you home safe, Princess."

"Won't he bleed out?"

"I didn't hit him too bad. Wish I woulda. Never did like him."

"I'm still conscious," Rick grumbled.

"I know. But I wasn't talkin' to ya, now was I?"

Merle led me by the arm—which must have been an odd sight. If the night's events had progressed a bit differently I would have found it humorous. But humor just didn't feel proper on me at the moment. Perhaps later it would. If later was even an option after tonight. The Governor doesn't like people who cause a lot of trouble. And I've caused more trouble than he lets anyone get away with in the past few days.

God help me.

* * *

_This is a touch short. But it was kind of heavy/dark so I didn't want to drag it out very much. Hopefully that was done tastefully enough to get the point across without being too graphic. (And that some of you aren't so squeamish?)_

_Poor Rick. Shot twice in less than a year? Brutal.  
_

_Thanks to **Caffiend04**,** Emberka-2012**, and **Leyshla Gisel** for reviewing! :) (And all of the people who have favorited/followed this!)  
_

_More to come soon.  
__~ Lynn_


	4. Irrelevant

Merle, Rick, and I arrived at the Brothel several minutes later. He knocked roughly on the door, which was opened immediately by a worried looking Lily. Her eyebrows shot up at the sight of Rick thrown over Merle's shoulder so carelessly. "New guy," he explained. "Bastard's gotta learn the ropes." She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving Rick's body. I think she was half afraid he would turn out to be one of the Infected and tear us all to pieces. It was a valid fear. "Here's the money for tonight." He handed a smaller wad of cash than yesterday. "Night, Miss Charlotte," he nodded to me before walking off into the night, whistling away at a tune I was unfamiliar with.

"My god, Charlotte what happened?" Lily asked, pulling me inside and locking the door firmly behind her. Her warm, slender hands cupped my face as she surveyed the damage. "You won't be able to work tomorrow."

"I don't think I really have a choice," I frowned. "This was just because I tried to make him be nice to—," I cut myself off before I revealed too much information. "Nevermind. It's not important. I used my mouth for something other than what he pays for." She sighed, ushering me into the bathroom.

"You can't save everybody, Charlotte," she reminded me gently. "I think your sister is proof enough of that." I flinched away from her, giving her a vile look. "Your dress will need mended." She was going to let the matter drop. I didn't like to talk about Mary. She's the only reason I'm still alive. I'm not even sure what the Governor did with her after he took me away from our group. I've always assumed that he killed her. I hope it was painless. But I know that it probably wasn't. He's never that kind.

She began to unlace my corset to further inspect the damage. "I don't know that it can be mended," I sighed, allowing her to clean my wounds. Her eyes flickered to mine. She wasn't sure if I was talking about the dress, myself, or the events that had happened. To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure either. The conversation lulled to a halt, allowing us to concentrate on nothing other than the mundane activities presented to us.

After she was finished, she drew a bath for me before turning to leave. She paused with her hand on the doorknob: "I just hope that you know what you're doing, Charlotte. I don't need to know," she waved aside my bubbling protests, "and I quite frankly don't want to know. He can't punish me for my ignorance. Even he isn't that cruel. But he will punish you if you don't succeed in whatever you're doing. Just remember that."

With that, she left. I stared at the door for several moments before gently lowering myself into the warm water. The wounds from earlier were already starting to ache. I gingerly began inspecting the damage. Nothing permanent. Though I'm not sure what exactly I would have to be worried about the damage for. It was hard to think of any other life than the one I was currently living through. Was there even another life? Somehow I doubted it.

As I dunked my head under water, I decided to push those thoughts from my head and instead focus on getting Merle's friends out of here. Outside couldn't be all that bad, right?

The next morning, I rose early and dressed myself. I knew the Governor wouldn't be calling on me today. He would think I was too battered to be of any use. (Or he simply didn't seem to get off on the scars of his anger. Only the action of the anger itself.) This meant that I was relatively free for the day. So, naturally, I decided to tempt fate and visit Rick in the holding cell.

"I'll be back later, Lilly," I informed her as I made for the door.

"You aren't in scarlet today?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. There seemed to be some unwritten law that I had to wear it. But I had settled on several different shades of slate grey in a dress that was far less complicated than any of the others that I owned. The only shade of red on my person at all was my lipstick. I still had to look presentable in public just in case he decided to call on me while I was out.

"He won't be calling on me today." She asked no further questions, returning to her mending. I left the brothel, stepping out into the chilly fog of the morning. Curfew must have just lifted. My feet carried me along the familiar streets of Woodbury until I arrived at the local jail. As luck would have it, Merle was the guard on duty.

"Morning, Miss Charlotte," he greeted me with a curt nod. "What can I do for ya?"

"Visiting," I replied. "I'm off duty."

"Same rules still apply," he informed me as he unlocked the front gate to allow me entrance to the building. "Ain't nobody that touches you but me and the Governor." I nodded. "Kevin, go get lunch awhile," he ordered, tossing a set of keys to the other guard on duty. The second guard, Kevin, stared uncertainly. "Ain't lettin' no one in. Now go before I change my mind, punk." The younger man quickly hurried away, locking the front gate behind him.

Merle took me by the elbow and led me down the hallway. Once we were away from the view of the street, he released his grip. "How is he?" I questioned.

"Alive."

"You don't sound happy about that." He gave me a dark, crooked smile just as we emerged in the holding cell area. Rick was cooped up in the smallest cell—one designated for small children. "Honestly, Merle. You're more petty than some of the old bats around England." He shrugged.

"I ain't no saint, girlie."

"Obviously." I knelt beside the cell. "Rick, is it?"

"What do you want? Gonna make him shoot me again?" Rick asked, his pale blue eyes boring holes into my emerald ones. I rolled my eyes in response.

"If you would get your head out of your arse and listen, we wouldn't be in this predicament," I hissed. He studied my face.

"What happened to your eye?"

"Irrelevant. You're going to be released today. The Governor never holds first time offenders for more than twelve hours so long as they've been shot."

"And if they haven't?"

"Irrelevant," I repeated. "You really have to let go of those 'what ifs.' How long will Kevin be gone?"

"At least thirty minutes. Wouldn't count on no more than an hour," Merle supplied.

"Thirty is plenty." I turned to Rick. "Now listen. You're going to be released today and probably put up with your group. He likes to monitor newcomers all at once if he doesn't shoot them on sight. If you have any weak links, strengthen them or be prepared to shed some blood fighting for them."

"How do I know you can trust you?" Rick eyed me.

"Because I could be dead before I even leave the building," I replied evenly. "I'm not supposed to even leave the brothel unless it's been previously approved or I've been hired. This visit is neither."

"Why are you even helping?"

"Because Merle is the only thing close to family I have left." Rick's eyebrows rose as he stared at the redneck racist behind me. He's flawed—but it's only what was imprinted in him his entire life. "And his brother seems to like the rest of you. So that means I'm willing to risk whatever semblance of a life this is for your group."

"You're a brave girl, Charlotte."

I gave him a wry smile as I rose. "I'm just a harlot that dresses in scarlet." I turned to Merle. "I should leave now. Kevin isn't as terrified of you as the other guards." Merle nodded, walking with me until we got to the gate. He opened it, allowing me to pass through.

"You're more than that, ya know," he said quietly as the gate locked firmly behind me. I turned to face him once more.

"Not any more." I left him standing there just as Kevin came around the corner with a bag full of food. My feet carried me to the market. I needed an excuse as to why I was out today. If for no other reason than people would see me not breaking the law. At least not one that existed currently. They were rather subject to change.

I bit into the apple as I began my walk home. A peculiar squish made me stop, drawing my teeth out of the punctured fruit. My grip tightened, sending rotted apple oozing out over my gloves. I tossed it aside in the grass, taking off my gloves and dropping them in the nearest trash can.

Pity. I actually liked those gloves.

When I arrived home, Lily was still in the same spot mending some of the girls' dresses. "He was here," she greeted me. "He asked for Samantha."

"One of the new girls?"

She nodded. "I imagine that we've lost another one."

"He's eventually going to run out of whores."

"Not as long as he has you." I glanced at her. She didn't bother to look up. Eventually I took this as a sign that I could disappear. "He left roses for you. They're in your room." I nodded, leaving her to her work. Sure enough, there was a bouquet of a dozen red roses and baby's breath in a vase next to my bed. There was also a card. I picked it up, carefully opening it.

_My lovely Charlotte._

I crumpled the note in my hand, chucking it at the wall. It collided with a soft _thwack_ before falling with a muted _thud_ to the ground. A sigh escaped my lips. I hated that man. I hated him more than the way he kissed my hand. Or the barbaric entertainment he forced us all to endure. The image of his face flashed before my eyes. That dark, wicked smile permanently etched into his tanned skin. My hands balled into fists, my nails digging into my flesh, as I imagined what it would be like to kill him. To make him endure the things that he was forcing us to endure.

Before she had been found guilty of treason, Margaret had told me of the Governor's rise to power. There had been another man quite like him in charge. But the Governor and his brother had helped to overthrow this man, trying to bring about a peaceful civilization. But something had happened—something she wasn't quite privy to—the brother died and the Governor lost his mind. His sense of justice became so warped that he believed he was doing us all a favor. He was saving us. The next Messiah.

And then I came along. One out of a group of eight. The only survivor. All because he liked the name Charlotte.

I laid down on my bed, staring at the textured ceiling. It was too late to back down, now. My hands itched to be bathed in his blood, eyes longing to watch the final minutes of life drain from his eyes while that smile disappeared from his face. I felt the corners of my mouth twitch into a smile, hysteria threatening to bubble to the surface.

Rick's group would escape unharmed. And Merle would go with them to be with his brother. I wasn't sure what would happen to me or even the other citizens of Woodbury. But I found that I didn't care. I only wanted to be the Governor's catalyst. Whatever happened after that was extraneous.

"Irrelevant," I mused with a smile, turning to face the wall. There was nothing to do now but wait until I had that opportunity. It's funny how morality can blur the lines between justice and murder. The value of one life is much lower than the value of another because he does not possess the morality to justify keeping him alive. My eyelids closed as I fell into a deep, dreamy sleep. If you can really call these thoughts dreams.

* * *

_A little tidbit of background information on Charlotte. (And the Governor.) Next chapter should be...interesting. ;)_

_~Lynn_


	5. It Will Not Be Forgotten

"Charlotte," Lilly shook me awake. "You haven't left your room for three days." I rolled away from the wall and onto my back to face her. I stared up at her with a frown.

"I've been resting. You know he'll want me back in working order as soon as possible," I reasoned. She didn't look like she believed me.

"Well I hope that you've recovered, then," she informed me stiffly. "It's nearly four o'clock. He'll be here in an hour." Before I could comment, she had left the room. I sat up, staring at the closed door for a few seconds. A sigh left my lips as I climbed out of bed.

"Miss Charlotte," a timid voice called from the other side of the door. "Your bath is ready." I opened the door. Two of the young girls stood there. The third, one of the blondes, was missing. And, from the look on their faces, I didn't want to know how it had happened. They were hoping I wouldn't comment on it. So I won't.

I bathed as quickly as I could before the girls began to help me dress. The garments were new I noted. He must have felt rather badly about what had transpired the last time if he was bringing me new clothes. Once the transformation was complete, I looked like an expensive, Victorian whore. The Governor would be pleased, at least.

There was a knock at the door without a pause for me to answer it. Lily appeared. "He's here." I nodded, applying a final layer of lipstick. She waited for me to follow her to the sitting room. The Governor was sitting there, waiting, with the leash in his hands. He rose when I entered.

"My darling Charlotte, I've missed you," he greeted me with a kiss on my hand. I forced a pretty, flattered smile onto my face.

"I've missed you as well," I lied through my teeth. He didn't seem to be any wiser. The collar was put into place before he led me out of the house. We went for a walk, as we usually do, until we came to his residence. He wasted no time in going for the laces of my dress, bringing his mouth down upon mine. I went through the motions as I always do while my mind lingered elsewhere.

When he held me close or pinned me down under his weight, I could see the way that his chest moved with each heartbeat. I could feel the warmth of his blood, smelling the sharp metallic scent as it oxidized. It was then that my resolve solidified.

After he had finished, I stood to dress and leave but he grabbed my wrist. "Stay with me, my love. I paid for two days." I laid back down beside him, allowing him to pin me to the bed under his weight. My fingers absentmindedly ran through his hair, luring him into sleep. I waited until I was sure he was in a deep sleep before slipping out of his grasp. He didn't stir. I quickly dressed in a pair of his pants and one of his shirts before slipping outside.

Curfew had fallen. Good. That would make this easy. I quietly scurried down the hallway until I found the supply closet. It was locked. My eyes scanned the corridor until I was satisfied nobody was around. I put my weight against the lock until the wooden door splintered and swung open. I stepped through, closing the door behind me. It popped open slightly. The closet was still darker than the rest of the house. But that didn't deter me.

I groped around until I found what I was looking for. Gallon jugs. My fingers nimbly unscrewed one of the lids. Gasoline. I loosely replaced the lid, continuing to look through the items. Matches. I tucked those in his pants along with a few other items I thought might be useful. As I turned to leave, I hovered by the door. The house was quiet. Eerily so.

Once I was satisfied that nobody was there to see me, I edged back out into the hallway and returned to his room. When I got there, however, he was gone. As my eyes darted around the room, the door behind me slammed shut. The Governor lunged for me, knocking the gasoline out of my hand and all over the floor. I gasped in surprise as my shoulder made contact with the bare wooden floor.

"You're quickly becoming more troublesome than you're worth," he growled, twisting my arm until my shoulder dislocated. I gritted my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had caused me pain. He got off of me, giving me a swift kick to the ribs. "I'm done with you for tonight. Get out." And then he turned his back on me, facing the window. I struggled to my feet, digging through one of the pockets. Hedge clippers were the first thing that I pulled out. They would do.

I gripped them tightly, sucking in my breath, and ramming them into his spine. He let out a surprised yelp before staggering against the window. I twisted the blades before extracting them and inserting them again. The Governor lay in a small, crumpled heap below me by the time I was finished. Pale, shaking, and sputtering blood. I stood above him, staring down at him. For the first time since I had known him, he looked terrified.

My lips curved into a satisfied smile. I picked up the half-empty gasoline can and began pouring it as cleanly as I could with only one operable arm. A sharp knock on the door caused me to stop in my tracks and listen. The Governor choked as he tried to call out, blood gurgling out of his mouth.

"Charlotte?!" Merle called through the door before nearly breaking it down. His light blue eyes scanned the scene in awe.

"Go get your brother and the others," I instructed calmly. "And get them ready to leave."

"Ya need any—"

"No. I want to do this." He opened his mouth to reply before closing it with a stiff nod, handing me a pistol, and hurrying out of the room. Several gunshots informed me that he was taking down the guards. I emptied the gas can in the room before going back to the closet and getting another. Taking off the cap took more effort this time since my one arm was incapacitated. As I was leaving, a guard began approaching from the opposite end of the hallway.

"Hey, stop—"

I shot his kneecap out, thanking any god out there that would listen that I had learned how to shoot when my father used to force me to go hunting with him. He fell with a startled yelp. I scurried back to the room where the Governor was fading away and began to douse him in gasoline, being very careful not to get any on me.

His dark eyes stared up at me, pleading with me not to go through with it. He still wanted to live. My lips twisted back into an ugly snarl. "You should have thought of that before you killed my sister," I growled, pouring the remainder of the gasoline on his face. He coughed in protest. I stepped away from any traces of gasoline, fumbling to get the matches out of my pocket.

Finally, I found them. I bent down, placing the box under my foot, and striking one against the box until it lit. "By the way, my name was Mary." He began coughing violently as he tried to scream. I smiled, tossing the lit match across the room. The gasoline immediately caught fire, slithering up to his crumpled form. His feet caught fire first. Then his legs. His back. Neck. Face. Throat.

The sickly sweet scent of burning flesh filled my nostrils. I inhaled deeply, pulling a cigarette from the pocket of his pants. My fingers held it into the flames he was giving off as he reached out and grabbed the leg of the pants. I scowled, slipping them off easily. They easily engulfed in flames.

And so I stood watching the flames travel, smoking a sorely missed cigarette, in nothing but an oversized button-up shirt. I hadn't even heard Merle reenter the room. He came over to me. "Jesus Christ, Charlotte, what the fuck are ya still doin' in here?! Yer gonna burn alive," he reached out for my good arm. I ducked out of his grasp.

"Go on, Merle," I shook my head. "I'm supposed to be dead anyway."

"What are you talking about, Char—"

"Mary."

"What?"

"Charlotte is dead."

"Charlotte, you ain't makin' any sense."

"My name is Mary." But I imagine that she's dead now, too.

"Yer in shock."

"Charlotte lied. Told him my name was Charlotte and that she was Mary. I lived because of it. She should have lived."

"Merle, let's go!" the younger Dixon urged from the doorway. "The fuck is takin' ya'll so long?"

"Ch—Mary, come on." I gave him a sideways glance, shaking my head with a small smile. My fingers flicked the cigarette into the encroaching flames. I held my arm gingerly before sitting on the floor.

"Leave or burn with me," I narrowed my eyes at him. "There's nothing left for me any more."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Merle," Dixon growled. He pushed his way into the room despite the heat. "We gotta get outta here now. The ceiling's gonna come in."

Merle gave me a hard look. "Ya sure about this?"

"I've never been more certain of anything in my life," I replied simply. The older man nodded, standing and beginning to walk away from me.

"Let's go, Daryl."

"What about—? The hell, Merle?! She saved our asses," Daryl jerked a finger in my direction. I leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes.

"It's her choice," Merle replied. Several moments passed, causing me to believe that they had left me alone. Finally.

"Fucking hell," Daryl growled from in front of me. My emerald eyes flew open in surprise, connecting with his light, frosty azure gaze. He eyed my injured arm before scooping me up into his arms.

"Put me down!" I demanded, trying to struggle with only one good arm.

"Shut up," he snapped, pulling me tighter against him so that my good arm was pinned and my legs restricted from the knees up. He ignored any insults or commentary I provided as he carried me out of the burning house.

It wasn't until we were outside that he put me down on my feet. But as soon as I was standing on my own, the streets began to spin until the pavement rushed up to meet my face. Darkness descended upon me.

The first thing I registered was pain. The second was that I was laying down on something hard. And that there were people around me. Timidly, I began to open my eyes. I was met by the dark blue interior of a tent. The hard thing beneath me was a cot. And the people were outside. I didn't recognize any of the voices or footsteps. What exactly had happened and why was I here?

As I tried to sit up, the stiff pain in my shoulder brought the events at the Governor's Mansion back to me. He was dead. But I was alive. I frowned. I hadn't really planned on living once I took him out and got Merle, his brother, and the rest of the group out of Woodbury. Were we even out of Woodbury? If so, where the hell were we?

The flap to the tent unzipped as an older woman with extremely short grey hair poked her head in. "Oh, honey, don't sit up," she said soothingly. "You went through quite the ordeal."

"Where am I?"

"You're at our camp," she informed me, gently pushing my shoulders down. "How's your shoulder feel?"

"Stiff, but relocated," I replied.

She began to check my wounds. "Daryl said you passed out from smoke inhalation. It doesn't look like there will be much damage though. The fire didn't get to you. Everything else just seems to be cosmetic." I nodded. She picked up a glass of water from beside the cot. "You must be thirsty. Drink this."

I obliged because, well, I _was _thirsty. "Thank you?"

"Carol," she smiled warmly, patting my arm affectionately. "Merle can't seem to quite decide what your name is."

"I don't think either of them are me any more," I replied honestly, my gaze straying away from her. "He called me Charlotte. My real name is Mary. But that's not me any more." She nodded in understanding.

"What do you want us to call you?"

I paused thoughtfully, the glass hovering near my lips. "I—I don't know," I shook my head.

"That's alright. We'll just make due without one until then. I'll go see if Maggie has some clothes you could wear." Before I could ask who Maggie was, Carol was gone. I bit my lip uncertainly, staring at the closed tent flap. She returned a few moments later with a pile of garments. "These should fit. We'll have to worry about getting you clothes on the next run into town. If you have specifics, Glenn would be the one to see about that."

I took the clothes with a terribly confused look on my face.

"Oh, right, you haven't gotten to meet many people yet." I shook my head slowly. "Well, I'll show you around once you feel up to it. For now you just rest. I'll bring you some dinner once it's ready." Once again, she was gone.

As I slowly dressed, I couldn't help but feel simultaneously lost and at home. I had a funny feeling that my adventures were only beginning. The urge to simultaneously thank and strangle the younger Dixon washed over me. I'd decide how to act upon those feelings later, I decided, as I crawled back under the sheets on the cot. It didn't take me long to fall back asleep. This time of my own accord.

* * *

_Thank you to **Emberka-2012**, **Caffiend04**, and **NL March** for all of their kind words and for reviewing the last chapter! :)  
The title for this chapter comes from a song by the Pierces titled It Will Not Be Forgotten._ _It served as a nice musical muse for the majority of this chapter. And there will be a little more relationship building in the next along with more of an explanation behind the relationship of Charlotte and Mary._ _Hopefully that wasn't too confusing for anyone. I tried to weasel it in without the tedious dialogue. I mean, who's going to dish out their entire life's story while waiting to burn alive with a man they hate more than anything? So we'll be getting more of that soon. (Sometimes, I just like to talk in these little notes more than I really have anything legitimate to say.)_

_~Lynn  
_


	6. Soon After Midnight

The next time I awoke, it was dark and the camp was silent. I sat up, listening to the sounds all around. There must have been a forest nearby. Leaves were rustling as trees creaked in the breeze. After a few moments, I decided to get up and stretch out my muscles. They were horribly sore-how long had I been out this time? I couldn't be sure.

My fingers fumbled with the zipper until I was able to walk outside and breathe in the fresh air. I was right. We were camped out in the middle of a clearing. Movement from on top of the parked RV caught my eye. One of the men I remembered seeing in the group sauntered over to me. "You shouldn't be outside," he frowned. I looked up at the man with the shaved head, studying his face. He squirmed uncomfortably under my gaze.

"Where are we?"

"About fifteen miles from Woodbury-or what's left of it." I nodded. "What time is it?"

"A little after midnight," he shrugged. "At least that's what I think. You've been out a week."

"A week? We haven't moved?"

"Hershel didn't think it was wise."

"What's your name anyway?"

"Shane. Merle can't seem to give us consistent answers about yours though." I glanced at him thoughtfully. Right. I hadn't really decided what I should be called.

"Ellenore. But Ellie for short." It was my middle name-also Charlotte's. Our mother had wanted to name both of us Ellenore but Dad had said no. So she had contented herself with giving us both the same middle name.

Shane nodded, giving me a thoughtful look. Finally, he spoke again: "I don't want to give you a load of trouble, but it'll be easier for me to keep watch if you're in your tent."

"If I keep sitting still, I'm going to go crazy. If I'm quiet, can I stay out here with you?"

He frowned, giving me a once-over. I certainly didn't look like much at all. But I'm a good shot and my eyes aren't too bad. "You know how to shoot?"

I nodded at his question.

A sigh escaped his lips as he unhooked a gun from the wasteband of his police khakis. He handed it to me, his hand around the barrel. "Safety's on. Not a peep."

A grin broke out across my face as I happily followed him to the top of the RV, taking the second lawn chair. Shane shook his head at me slightly, a smile breaking his serious demeanor in spite of his attempts to hide it.

The night was rather quiet. None of the Infected-"Walkers" as he liked to call them-made their way anywhere near our camp. A few people in the camp began to wake up, starting to get breakfast ready. I gave Shane back his gun before going down to see if they could use any help.

"How are you feeling?" Carol, the kind woman with the short hair, asked me when she saw me approach.

"Much better," I admitted, helping her carry some pans over to the make-shift firepit. "Couldn't sleep any more, though, so I kept watch with Shane last night."

"You kept watch with Shane?" the slender woman with long, dark brown hair questioned me. She didn't seem happy about this. "He let you keep watch with him?"

"Well, yeah-wasn't he supposed to?"

"Just unusual is all. He doesn't talk too much to anyone any more."

"He wasn't very talkative," I shrugged, "but he was nice to me-what I'm guessing is nice for him anyway."

The woman shook her head in annoyance before walking away from Carol and I.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, things are just complicated between Lori, Rick, and Shane," Carol reassured me. She gave my shoulder a squeeze. "How are your cooking skills?"

"Edible."

"Good enough for me." A grin broke out on her face as she began showing me how I could help her. I followed her instructions, trying not to let the food burn. There were a few inedible pieces of food but Carol just got rid of them. "You'll learn."

Soon enough it was time for breakfast. As everyone got their food, I noticed that Shane wasn't leaving his post to eat. I made up a plate for him and took it over to the RV, climbing up with little trouble.

"I brought some breakfast for you," I told him, handing him the plate. He gave me a peculiar look. I shrugged and left before he would say anything. Lori shot me an unhappy look as I got my share and sat down next to Carol.

"So, tell us a bit about yourself," Rick addressed me. "We're all pretty curious."

I was uncertain where to start. "Well, you can all call me Ellie. My given name is Mary, but I've gone by Charlotte since a little after Before left us."

"How'd you end up in Woodbury?" the younger woman, who appeared to be my age, questioned curiously. She must be Maggie.

"My sister, Charlotte, and I had found a group outside of Atlanta after the government went nuts and started killing everything. So I guess we left just in time before things went to hell." I hesitated. "But then the Governor stumbled across our camp. He shot most of us on sight. Except for Charlotte and I. We were twins, though we looked nothing alike. She was older than me and I didn't often forget it. She was always one step ahead of everything and everyone. The Governor had hesitated when he got to us, pretending like he was saving us. Then he had begun singing a song to us." I laughed hollowly. "It's the only reason I'm still alive right now."

"What was it?" the young blonde next to Maggie asked, her blue eyes wide at the thought.

"Soon After Midnight by Bob Dylan." I could hear him still singing as I began the verse that had decided our fate. "Charlotte the harlot dresses in scarlet. Mary dresses in green. It's soon after midnight and I've got a date with the fairy queen. I was wearing red that day. Charlotte's sweatshirt because mine had been torn by an Infected. And she was in green, the only thermal she had left in tact. He asked our names, knowing that we were Charlotte and Mary but not which was which. (He had heard the rest of our group calling out to us.) And she had lied. A rash gamble but she had thought it would save my life. And it did. I watched him stab her and leave her to bleed out. She must have been dead by the time we left her. When we got to Woodbury, he sent me straight to the brothel. Margaret, the first woman who managed it, took me in and made sure I was well tended to."

"What happened to her?" Carol asked, a slender hand squeezing mine in reassurance.

"She questioned him and he used her in his fights as one of the Infected."

"How'd you meet up with Merle Dixon?" Lori questioned, her light eyes falling on Merle with clear dislike.

"He was one of the guards," I frowned at her. "And one of the only ones that ever treated anybody decently."

She gave a rude snort of disbelief. Merle's eyes flashed a mixture of hurt and anger. Daryl and I were probably the only ones able to properly discern the emotions there. Everyone else more than likely expected him to fly off the handle. Rick tensed, telling me that I was right.

"He's also the only reason your group made it out," I informed her icily. "It wasnt an ideal situation, but it was safe as long as I played by the rules. If I hadn't known Daryl was important to Merle, I would have never helped you."

"So then why did you?"

"Because I count Merle as a friend. And I trust his judgement." My eyes narrowed at her.

"Thank you for that," Rick tried to diffuse the situation. "We owe you our lives."

I shook my head. "I didn't really do it for you."

"Still, thank you. You saved all of our lives. And probably a good deal of people in Woodbury."

"If they managed to get out alive. I wasn't looking to save anybody. Just wanted to watch it all burn, honestly."

"Ya sure made it burn," Merle intervened. "Gave that sumbitch what was comin to him. Never seen a man so terrified. Think he pissed himself a bit."

"Pity for him, then. Urine isn't very flammable. Probably kept that area from going up in flames right away."

The men all shifted uncomfortably at the thought. Slow-burning that particular area was several rungs above cruel on the torture ladder.

"No pity for the wicked," Merle said, sobering to a state of such seriousness that most of the camp looked surprised by it. "Bastard deserved everythin ya gave him an more. I ain't a religious man, but I hope he gets more in hell."

"Here here," the Korean nodded, raising his glass. Most of the group followed suit.

"You know, I never thought Merle would be the one giving a speech we could toast to," Carol mused with a smile, her blue eyes darting in Merle's direction. He shrugged, a grin forming on his face.

"Special occasions only."

"Dale," Shane broke the chatter as he walked over. "Your turn to keep watch." The old man with the wide-brimmed straw hat nodded stiffly, taking the shotgun from Shane and heading over to he RV. Shane didn't stick around after that, going right for his tent.

As Maggie, Lori, Carol, and the blonde (whose name I learned was Beth) began cleaning up, I slid into the chair closest to Merle. Daryl got up and muttered something about hunting.

"This group is dysfunctional," I muttered.

"Ya have no idea," Merle chuckled. "How ya feelin?"

"Better," I admitted. Silence fell between the two of us.

"Ya really wanted to stay behind?"

"I'm not sure," I replied honestly. "Is your brother sorry he brought me along?"

"Nah. He just ain't much for talking. Shy. He ain't sorry about it though." I nodded, rubbing my neck. "Yer still exhausted. Go back to yer tent and rest, Ellie. I'll be sure ya get some lunch if ya sleep that long."

"Thanks Merle."

"Just don't tell no one. Not like they'd believe ya anyway."

"They're just foolish," I offered him a wry grin before going back to my designated tent and falling back asleep.

* * *

_Oops. That took a little longer to update than I had intended. But, uh, here's the next chapter anyways! I changed some things, though, but I'm too lazy to go back and correct them in earlier chapters. There are fourteen people in the camp including Merle and Ellie/Charlotte. And Mary and Charlotte are twins._

_Progress is progress, right?_

_~Lynn_


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